The Despair Code (thoughts)

Warning: Discussion of Existential Reality. May lead to Despair (3223412)

Living out here in the Liminality, we spin through the void – somewhere between success and failure, urban and rural, youth and old age, responsibility and recklessness. Our lives are between beginnings and unknowable endings. Posessed by the daemon of Schrodinger’s design we struggle for certainty of anything, and against denial of everything. Wandering like ghosts seeking solid faith in something, swimmers seeking anything to hold us afload, we distance from the joy of loved ones beside us because of the empty-eyed shadows of those who have passed.

3223412 Alas! “This is the way the world ends, not with a bang but a whimper.”

In truth, we are safest in the Liminality. Because to go over the threshold – to truly Know the unknown, to Become Known ourselves is to release the Despair Code.

It’s all of these, leading to so much more

The inability of man(kind) to correlate all it’s contents perhaps is the most merciful thing in the world, but I think we often ignore the deeper implications (at least I do). And this act of ignoring what should be plainly written is not just a mercy, but a form of denial, a decision (conscious or otherwise) to hide from the truth so plainly writ before our eyes that it is itself a kind of madness, or at the very least inauthenticity in the manner of what Sartre called “bad faith.”

The knowledge I am speaking of is not the kind of forbidden lore found in old moulding tomes like the Necronomicon, nor does Lovecraft really ever say that it is. For it is never only understanding that posits a danger to our well-being; it is the combination of understanding and experience.

After all in The Call of Cthulhu, it is not ultimately the piecing together of knowledge that leads to crisis. Instead it is the Experience of Truth. There is no inherent risk in learning of the touched dreams of artists and dreamers and sensitive types brought about through the mental powers of some unknowable Alien Other.

The danger is in becoming truly creative, in letting down the walls we have erected that keep us from knowing the awfulness that hides at the core of the awesome. We know this somewhere internally and it is an ever present tension in life that leads people to adopt a wide array of strategies of avoidance.
This is perhaps why if you correlate the contents of the DSMV-V, it seems to indicate that we are all of us, at least partly, insane. (Insanity being some form of detachment from reality.)

And so we choose. We choose to either lock ourselves away with the study of books that describe (someone’s) reality, or to go out and experience it for ourselves. It is indeed a rare thing to encounter a person with the courage to do both things simultaneously.

Those that do seem to achieve both states at once sometimes go on to found a religion, or philosophy. Yet more often they meet some tragic end as they recoil too far from the Reality they have themselves discovered. Often, Religion and Philosophy are an attempt to cover or mask the true, awful beauty they have both witnessed and understood.

The ultimate denial.

As above, so below?

Intellectually, I believe I understand that truth. But I can’t articulate it fully. I can at least be honest, however, by admitting that my greatest fear (and all if ours really), isn’t actually in fear of the unknown. The fear is (or should be) a fear of ever Actually knowing in our core how indifferent the cosmos really is. Because to Know (experience with understanding) is to let it in.

To really perceive beauty in the Cosmic Indifference would be to let it take us. Should that occur we are truly fucked (we fear). Because how can there ever be safety should we become like the cosmos: indifferent to life itself?

Stay crazy. Party on. Stay here in the absurdity of the Liminality. Make the most of the short time we have on this rock. Rage for as long as possible. Because whether we ever really KNOW it or not, the lights will eventually go out. Becoming intimate with Reality is at it’s core just another path to self destruction.

Key to the Plane of Crystaline Eyes

Among the crystaline fragments of bygone eyes, Yog Sothoth (the gate and the key) waits brooding for the next great dreamer to come and weaken the veil through the Liminality.

For whom does it wait?

Might it be you this day?

Reality Justice of the PataTapestry’s Metafold Ergonodes

Jerry Goodbonnets IV, learned the Artech from ancient books of foreboding lore. Jerry, being not the brightest orb-man in the Liminality’s low-hanging-fruit worlds, decided to toy around in the upper hypnozones where what Is, and what is Not can sometimes seem the same (to one such as Jerry.)

The Unbearable Hedron god tried to warn him off, but Jerry’s hubris was complete; his fate sealed.

The justice of Yog Sothoth is swift in coming and eternal in lasting. Some places even orb-men should fear to see. The screaming lights of a neutron staropod showed Jerry Goodbonnets the way out of the Liminality and it’s larvae did feast on his flesh.

Jerry Goodbonnets Hacks the Liminality no more.

See this and other videos* now on 3gregor’s Node.

(*Offer for a limited time. prizes and participation may varry and are subject to local, State and Liminal laws and restrictions. No flash photography inside the manimal enclosures.)

In the Liminality, the stores shop for you…

I think I wandered into a weird pocket dimension earlier today.

I had to get specific things from Walmart for something my wife was planning on making. I never go to Walmart; I never actually even go to this town as I live equidistant between this town and one about 10x the size. But I happened to be coming from that direction today and was passing by anyway so can I please stop in for a few things? Thanks.

First off, I had this super weird vibe about people and their masks. 90% of masked people were elderly and the other 10% were employees. No one my age or younger were wearing masks. None. Everyone was also perfectly aware of what kind of statement that made. So, the tension between the generations was disturbing.

(Truth be told it’s probably been 9 months since I walked inside a grocery store. Curbside pickup is so much easier. Just build a distribution hub already. I’ll drive into a slot and get the car washed and my hair cut while groceries are loaded into the back.)



Uhh… I’m still in Walmart, right. So, I tried to do my best to fill my wife’s list, guys. I really did. Every section that was supposed to have what I needed looked like a demon ransacked it 5 minutes before and stripped it of everything I needed. The whole store was not like this; only my stuff. After the 4th unavailable item, well, I cheesed it…

…Straight across town to the Piggly Wiggly, which is clearly where the Liminality wanted me to end up. Because today at the Piggly Wiggly, the lights were half off, everyone was dead inside, and the place smelled like 1985. They had everything I needed, which meant I had to spend time getting to know the layout of ancient, mouldering display shelves that you can almost hear them groaning in rusty pain under the weight of too many products. The Products are crammed tightly, haphazardly, desperately, under off-brand signage that was made for fewer products.

This store is old. This store is angry. Built for a time when you could (should) smoke in the isles and people paid with food stamps that were literally stamps – this store had seen things. And this store had been neglected. Denied the luxury of renovation and modernization. It knows it’s glory has passed. It knows the town’s glory has passed. Patronized now only by die hard loyalists and desperate shoppers who are running late, this store is angry.

None of the people in the store had masks, except for me. I was the tear in the fabric of reality today. Because it was 1985 and you didn’t need masks. Everyone were already sick looking in the weird florescent, brown-tiled twilight. Something on the intercom was crackling and it took me a minute to recognize that management was being paged to the front for a mysterious numbered code.

Even the vegetable section was in shadow, y’all! You ever seen un-misted vegetables obfuscated under the cover of florescent dusk?!

Anyway. That’s my story. I’m going back down to the Piggly Wiggly now. It calls to me.

Invitation:

Join us for MEMETIC HAZARD’s Open Spike Night!

“Amid Pervasive Surveillance and social media, it is poetry that can help us navigate our technologically-led-society” says a University of Melbourne expert.

General Instructions (Suggestions really)

Bizarre poems, poetic philosophical treatises, florid social commentary are to be written and broken into pieces, randomly, and spread throughout social media and other Internet forum’s, all with the exact 3 tags. That will throw The Watchers and AI alike for a loop. At least for a while. While they are busy deciphering our latest memetic play, we are long gone into the next one, or out of the Matrix completely.

::Key Tags: #CypherMemes, #MetaPoem or #Poetry5D

How It Works:

First, Agents are given a theme. The dedicated team, we’ll call them Verseions (IDK) each exchange poems and read/familiarize themselves with the works of the other. Now, each poem has an existence in other people’s heads. Agents then draw one of the poems, randomly and decide how best to fragment it. (Fragmentation can be difficult for the original author to obfuscate his intent.)  Sentences can absolutely be broken, but NO rearranging words; that’s just uncool.

Distribution:

: Fragments in hand, it’s time to hide our treasure. (Don’t get too obscure.) We want random members of the public to see them and go WTF??? So, comments sections are great, public forum’s. Make an Instagram post with some unrelated (or related) art. Put it on your personal blog. Whatever. It’s fine if the tags don’t pull up in one search: Facebook’s will not.) The most important thing here is the keywords or tags. They must be included to link them to the collective whole. To be nice, I recommend putting a clue as to where the previous and next fragment is located. The game is supposed to be one, theoretically after all. But what are you going to do? It’s Erisian Poetry.

What have we done?

We have now crafted a single Meta-Poem/CypherMeme in 5 Dimensions. Count: The 2 D that the original poem appears on, the 3 D, of the participant’s heads, 4D through it’s meter and through the (miniscule but calculated) adjustment in relativity  as your signal travels to a satellite and back, and 5D – the undefined “realm” of digital existence itself.  (Is my email to my co-worker’s computer in his office above mine if the server is in the basement and everything is routed through the corporate office in Toledo first?)

Example of Play

After the group reading, I end up with Walt’s poem. As the poem has nine lines, (the real one has many more FYI)  I decide to break it down into lines 1-4, 5-7, then 8-9. I post lines 1-4 in a FB group known for TG23. I use the tags, plus a few TG23 tags. Then “#CypherMeme in 3 parts: Oh Captain, my captain.” Then a clue. “My Bird account, 3rd message today.” There, I leave my fragment and put “Comment on Elon (date/time of tweet) with me”  Then they get to go through all the comments of Elon’s las tweet to find your 3rd excerpt. Mwahaha…  You’re welcome to embed the fragment’s in your own websites or blogs as well.

Say they get bored or think they’re clever and search the hashtag. Suddenly they’ve got “O Captain My Captain, Rubber Ducky You’re the, Jabberwocky ona road less traveled.” Sanity loss!! Instant devotee:

Prizes:

If, by a miracle, some non agent manages to collect all fragments, or even all fragments to a single, identifiable poem, the win a big secret. Maybe they earn a book or a gift card too. Maybe even A BRAND NEW CAR!!! Look under your seat. And your seat…. Okay, no brand new car (unless someone wants to donate, lol.

REMEMBER

we don’t want them searching by the hashtag, but if they do, it should baffle them. We know that the AI’s and their human servants search by tag, and that’s whose time we want to waste. It would be even better if your poems contained obscure allusions, riddles, or even formed pictures out of the words.

Consider this training, agent. We must all learn to think in metaphor, allegory and code. Poetry is the perfect vessel for that.

If you have any questions or suggestions, DM Me on Twitter @CosmicHorror77, Facebook at N Metcalf, or my WordPress: CosmicallyLiminal.org

Irvingham Bucksworth and Friends prep for poetry night:

Preparation for an event is just as important as the event. It’s a time for practice, drinking and fun between friends. Irvingham Bucksorth is no different. In his prescience, he has foreseen the coming Wormhole, and the Biogenic dance off. (May Many join and seed the dataplex with joy.) He’s not sure about any virus, but he knows antibiotics can help what’s ailing you. The Stars can not help, when they are right.

For equally absurd videos, you are invited to 3gregor’s channel on YouTube. Many more critiques there. (Despite what trolling Sergiios might say.)

The Placebo Diaries (4)

D.R.; After a fatal incision of self infliction I attended the autopsy of humanity high on LSD It was a questionable decision . . . but that’s just me The event was well advertised; “Come witness the Mystery and Rebellion at the World Famous ⭐ CARNIVAL of CARNALITY ⭐ ~ Where The Flesh Is Weak […]

The Placebo Diaries (4)

Shield Your Eyes: The Goddess is Unveiled

Review: ERIS unveiled, “the story about a mad giggling goddess who gave humanity a mysterious conspiracy to resurrect itself… through interpretive dance!

Okay. Where to begin… Wow…

Knowing that the Principia Discordia is the book by which all other Discordian creations will be measured, anything new must be brave, brilliant, and totally insane all at once, seamlessly weaving disjointed contexts into something enjoyable.  To even begin to attempt a work of Discordian Literature is a declaration of one’s tenuous grasp on ‘reality.’ To return from the project coherent and passable as human is nothing short of a miracle.

Eris Unveiled, ‘the Podzine Pilot’ does all of that. Its author/narrator/protagonist seems to phase in and out between brilliant rationality and divine madness, taking the reader with him. By the end it all seems perfectly normal and sane; Eris succeeds in shifting your reality tunnel, and grasping the tunnel(s) of the zine that much better.

The Podzine concept itself requires a shift in expectations from standardized media. The textual, zine, part of the work is interspersed with QR codes that, once scanned, lead you to audio pods. These pods are incredibly enjoyable interludes… addendums… expositions.  They bring a “real world” connection that comes from hearing fellow humans (and very non human elements too.) Do not skip the pods; you’ll miss the point.

Eris Unveiled content is also nonlinear and pastiche. The narrative, timeline, artwork and mixed audio form a “hyper-collage,” if you will. (A collage spanning more than the visual dimension.) Like Blade Runner, Lyotard’s classic example of pastiche; you won’t just be struck by the mixed aesthetic of the work. The line between real and simulation is blurred quite nicely. Plus, there’s actual cyborgs, like real ones, and I wonder if they could pass the Voight-Kampff test.

The reader/listener is going to experience and learn from the mythic past and the not set future, which combine to shed light on our present WTF world. Also, you will find much of what Discordians have come to expect thematically: levels of conspiracy ranging from the mundane political to the abstract and cosmic, a healthy, well researched infusion of esoteric lore – containing insights for both the novice as well as the adept. You’ll find the required drug references, political commentary and most importantly, an apocalyptic revelation worthy of RAW himself. The alarm call is real and it is clear without coming off as preachy in the slightest.

Yet, for all of this deep, rich content, the author keeps the prose engaging, light and it is intensely funny, even hysterical. The dialogues in the pods are another perfect blend of the profound and the absurd. So don’t assume for a second that this work is too heavy to enjoy either sober or tripping balls. Do not make the other mistake assuming that this is an absurd bit of niche humor with nothing of value. Both claims would be accurate and completely false at the same time.

Early on in the work we are told, that we will go through madness, discover the power of myth, and be exposed to a great mystery beyond. Anthropologists might call those the three stages of initiation, and this podzine might be just that. I cannot recommend it enough.

Twitter Writes

From Cosmic Liminality: @CosmicHorror77

1. Forbidden Lore

Playing foolish games with forbidden lore may catapult you into #liminal space. You must have resilience to survive, for the veil hits like a brick wall and the indignant void-dogs have a cobra’s bite.

Art: prinnyking3, Wonder2

2. Take Care When You Are Between…

“Take care when you are Between – boundaries, are arbitrary.
Wandering borderlands, third spaces or crossroads – hold your convictions.
Strange lines, like between flora and fauna (or where sentience begins), can collapse when you are alone.”

3. NanoCloud™ Beginnings

Time Travel Prompt: #vssTimeTravel

The internal clock issue became the last hindrance to human #timetravel. AI could make the jump, but our brain/body matrix couldn’t cope with the temporal reset.
Engineers had a twofold solution – a NanoCloud™ inside a 4D-phase suit.
Art: Andres Rios

4. The Doppelganger

You may “encounter” a doppelganger. You’ll never see it, just become aware that it is approaching through others’ memories.

“Remember last week when…?” you weren’t even in town.

Sightings get closer in time

Yesterday when ___

An hour ago ___

Wait. Who wrote this?

5. Building the Egregore

The slow accumulation of seemingly random ideas, facts and images – the data flow – left deposits of something in my mind. It grew in my head the way minerals in a cave build a stalagmite. But it was just the remnant of the alien stalactite (thought-form), descending from above.

It’s my fault. I found it. I found the pattern. Piecing together the scattered and disparate clues, I brought it forth from the grave where others had so carefully hidden it.

So now it’s in my head – The AWFUL IDEA – and I have to share it.

I am so Sorry

@horrorprompt 456

#SciFanSat #Satsplat

If you can get people to concentrate on your “Awful Idea,” you can essentially bring it to life. I mean, it’s always been “alive,” just isolated. Once enough people start thinking about it, though, it’s loose. Then the Watchers just track it and learn.

* Emergence

The emergent malevolent non-corporeal life form is already here. Your gaze is its gaze. Direct it with intention.

https://t.co/XoSgJfvICi

BIOLOGY of the EGREGORE

We humans are the nerve tissue of extra-dimensional emergent abominations. They will devour everything, including one another. We hope to mollify them with the pet names of Nations, Languages, Cultures. Forget that. We must expect that they will eat.

#CosmicHorror #AMWriting

6. Dada Nihilist Frogs

If you think about Extra-dimensional Nihilist Frogs trying to enter our Reality, you have given the Nihilist Frogs a foothold in our Reality.

So do not think about Extra-dimensional Nihilist Frogs.

Frogs of Oblivion?

#BadWordSat – “Original Deaths’ #WeirdFiction
When the otherworldly creatures of oblivion began to seep into our world, they came psychically through a flood of absurd memes. They ate hearts and minds one mad laugh at a time.
#SciFiSat #SatSplat #FlexVSS #vssHorror

7. Time Warps

#WritingCommunity

The timewarp became a broken reflection. Years unfurl behind as you hurdle with urgent apprehension to that point where you finally examine all you seek: the heart of the forbidden mythos.

#vss365 #whistpr #PainfulPrompts #vssDreams #2WordPrompt #StarWrites